Wind – ウインド
by Pulchra Stellam
Summary: They say wind can bring about change...perhaps she can be the wind that brings change to this world. She was given a second chance, a second life, and she was going to make best of it. Even if her name happened to be Konan. Reincarnation!Konan SI
1. Chapter 1

**EDIT: Changed some things because I didn't like the way the timeline would have worked out.**

**A/N: I was inspired by the first Naruto ending Wind – ****ウイン****ド ****to write this, if you couldn't tell from the title. At first I considered using it was the inspiration for a Tsunade Reincarnation, but this seemed to make more sense to me.**

**I don't own Naruto.**

Wind – ウインド

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

_**They say the wind can bring change…**_

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

When it happened, it had been sudden, unexpected, and above all – tragic. And when I say 'it' I'm referring to my death. And how could a fifteen year old dying by falling off a porch not be seen as tragic – or pitiful; it depended on how one looked at it.

Admittedly, it had been a bad idea on our half. Playing tag and not limiting where one could run to, that is. I'd ran up onto the porch, tripped on a step, and had fallen into a weak portion of railing that sent me falling headfirst to the ground that was roughly ten feet away.

Not a good height to fall from headfirst, or in general.

I distinctly remember feeling the searing, numbing pain and hearing the crack as my head hit the rocky ground. Then I was suddenly cold and drifting, then there was warmth. A cramped warmth that was oddly comforting.

The amount of time I spent in that warm place was unknown to me, but when that warmth was disturbed and I was being pushed and squeezed and suddenly so, so cold, I knew what had just happened.

I'd been born again.

Just that thought brought upon the whimpers and whines and eventually cries you'd expect from a baby.

The arms I'd been passed to cradled me, and from the feminine tone of the cooing I could only guess it was my mother.

Even as my mind was stressing and freaking and slowly fading to black I managed to catch one word repeated over and over –

Konan.

My name?

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

Over the next year I found my conscience fading in and out, only remaining for a day or so every week. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism to keep my older mind from destroying the delicate child's mind and brain I now had. But now it seemed my mind was here to stay, to see and take in everything.

With how my mother was cooing at me – and from the small, recollections of words and sound gained while I was floating – and the one finger she had held up momentarily, I guessed it was my birthday.

Once again, like when I was first born, I picked up on that word – my name – Konan.

It was familiar that name, achingly familiar.

And suddenly I realized, the mirror mother sat me in front of while brushing through my short baby hair revealed all to me.

Short blue hair, wide and disbelieving amber eyes, and the name Konan.

Dear god. Why? How?

I was Konan.

Konan, the origami master.

Konan, the future war orphan.

Konan, the future friend of Nagato and Yahiko.

Konan, the future student of Jiraiya.

Konan, the future Akatsuki member and "God's Angel".

My bottom lip popped out and trembled, halting my mother's ministrations with my hair. The pressure of knowledge and destiny pressed down on me and I _bawled_. Because _ohdeargod_ I didn't want this.

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

My first birthday nearly a year ago had ended in disaster, as I'd been a bawling mess all day. It was something I felt bad about even now, what with the distressed and harrowed looks that had never left their faces until I cried myself to sleep that very night. The next morning I had woken up feeling numb and I had effectively pushed my realizations to the back of my mind because –

Because _I couldn't handle it_.

I wasn't sure I could handle it now, seeing as I was furiously and agitatedly chewing on a wet cloth. A wet cloth because it was all I had. In fact, it was the same one I'd apparently used during my teething time. Now I used it because I had developed a habit of biting and chewing on things when I got anxious.

My poor parents probably never expected to have such an odd child – hell, I'd never expected to be a child again.

Did that make us even?

"Konan, dear," Mother looked tired – her blue hair limp and face older than it should be as she picked me up, "Lunch time, come now."

"Mmkay mama," I burbled around my cloth, only setting it aside once she'd set me down in front of my food.

Food that was… rather pathetic compared to what I remembered and probably compared to what other villages had, and we weren't even in a war right now.

Even without wartime Amegakure was a rough place to live, what with being in such a spot that we'd be affected by wars even if we didn't participate in them. Not to mention the civil war that would go on during my lifetime as well.

My life was already being torn and pushed apart – first by my father being pulled and sent out on more an more dangerous missions, and another time because our income had taken a hit and we'd had to move into a house that was smaller and in the slum because my parents couldn't afford the taxes Hanzō had started pushing forward.

Hanzō was a bastard, a bastard that would end up killing Yahiko. The man that ultimately spurred Nagato's state of mind.

I didn't _want_ that. I didn't want anything to do with the stealing of the tailed beasts or Tobito or Madara.

I wanted change – I so desperately wanted change.

But could I change anything? Could I save Yahiko? Would saving Yahiko make things worse in the end, or would things be better?

My mind roiled and my two year old body protested with a yawn, tired from the amount of thinking I'd been doing. It was with numb taste buds that I ate what I was given, though the food probably would have been bland and tasteless anyways.

The question I'd been asking was could I change things. What I needed to ask was would I be able to bring myself to do it.

_I can._ My small hand tightened around my bent and dented fork. _I can and will. I'll try my best._

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

…**perhaps I can be the wind that changes something.**

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

**I really hope to make the future chapters longer than this, but I thought this was an appropriate place to end for now.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wind – ****ウイン****ド**

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

_**They say the wind can bring change…**_

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

Living in the slums was not fun. I could attest for that and I was only three, and hardly ever taken out of the house unless there was no other place for me to go – which there wasn't. Everyone in the slums has to work for the basic necessities, so completely trusting a neighbor with your child was out of the question.

It was hard as hell for my parents, seeing as both were technically ninja. My father had been accounted for and sent off, coming back with a new scar each time.

Scars that weren't always physical.

Mother had stayed as low key as possible, not wanting to risk both of them being ordered out with me still much too young to properly defend myself. I was fairly certain she henged every time she went out, and I was also pretty sure that if Hanzō found out she'd be in a shit ton of trouble.

But, I figured, it was better than me dying or being sold off because a neighbor wanted money.

While in the slums I'd seen more than I needed too through our cracked windows, such as a mugging gone wrong in a small, dirty alley across the street. I still distinctly remember mother's pale face as she yanked me away from the window.

But it was too late – I'd already seen the blood splatter against the walls and ground as the attacker shuffled through the dead man's belongings.

Another thing I saw just this morning was a ninja, walking up a wall and bounding from roof top to roof top. This flipped a switch in my head and _ohmygosh_ that was right –

This was the world of _Naruto_. There was _chakra_. _I_ had _chakra_.

As if it was waiting for me to realize that, my chakra started humming and tickling my coils. I was sure my eyes were wide with curiosity and amazement as I lifted my hands and _pushed_. It tickled slightly and burned at the sudden force, but my chakra moved to my hands, causing them to glow slightly before quickly fading as I was unable to hold or control it.

A loud crack sounded across the room and I looked over, startled, to see my mother. Her face was taut and paler than usual, her eyes on my hands and the pot in her hands slightly cracked.

"I suppose," her voice, like her face, was taut, "Konan-chan wants to be a shinobi?"

My lips parted slightly and my amber eyes moved to my now clenched hands before moving to meet my mother's –

"Not for _him_."

And just like that she understood; knew exactly who _he_ was. How could she not? He'd caused so much suffering already.

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

**One Year Later**

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

I hadn't known when exactly it started, or when exactly it ended, or how long it lasted. But it was here, it was here and tearing my life apart more than ever. That damned Second Shinobi World War.

Father had been sent out to fight, against Konoha, against whomever Hanzō saw as our enemies.

The other thing that took a hit was our quality of life. It had quite literally gone to hell. Food was even scarcer than before, and the lack of sustenance was taking a toll on my mother. All because she was doing what any good mother would do – she was giving me almost all of it. Allowing herself to slowly starve because she wanted me to _live_.

My heart and mind were battling, the former saying _she's your mother and she's dying for you_ and the latter screaming that _you have to live, this woman gave you life, now save yourself and then worry about it_.

So I shoved it back, I shoved it all back and occupied myself with making a piece of paper stick to my hand in an effort to work on chakra control with my tiny reserves. And, considering the kekkei genkai I knew Konan to have, it was slightly easier than I thought it was going to me to make the paper to stick. It probably would have been more prudent to use a feather or a leaf, but where was I going to get a feather? And mother wouldn't let me wander out into the streets of the slum to find a leaf.

Suddenly there was knock on the front door, one that rattled it so hard I was afraid it might collapse.

"Stay to the side, Konan-chan," mother muttered as she moved to answer the door, standing just so I would be hidden behind her form.

"Yes," her voice was tense as she cracked open the door, revealing a man wearing a Rain headband, "What is it?"

The man's voice was bland, indifferent, "Your husband was killed on duty. An honorable death."

He left it that, after handing her a blood stained headband. Mother's face morphed several times in the course of seconds – from horror, to a blank look, sadness, and to grief. And then she sunk to the floor with a solid 'thump' and tears started falling, plinking faintly against the metal plate and filling the grooves that were our village's symbol.

My own body seemed to freeze; my heart and mind once again in a sort of conflict.

My heart was twisting, writhing and screaming that _you should be bawling your eyes out, that's your father – your blood_.

On the other hand my mind was roiling, hissing – _more will die like him, your mother will die; she did in the show, it's sad but they make no difference in this world_.

So I pushed it back, like I'd just pushed it back when I started getting conflicting thoughts about my mother starving herself. That didn't mean I was a complete and utter heartless bitch though; I couldn't do _nothing_ for my mother.

"Mama," I moved forward to grip her sleeve, "It'll be okay. Konan is still here."

She sobbed, letting the headband clatter to the floor so she could properly embrace me, "Yes, my little one. And I'll make sure you _stay_ here."

Mother pulled back, her eyes rimmed red and searching, "I can just tell you're destined for great things, little one."

Oh, you had no idea mother. But great isn't exactly the word I would use. It could be though, if I managed to change things.

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

**A year and a half later**

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

By this time my mother's face was slightly sunken and her body weaker; I myself was probably a little underweight, but mother had made sure I was healthy. She'd also made sure I was better equipped to defend myself.

As a shinobi she knew jutsu and therefore hand signs, so she taught me a little game that would both help my finger dexterity and help me learn the signs.

"What about chakra though, mother," my amber eyes searcher her blue ones, my four year old face filled with curiosity, "I have to learn to control it, right?"

Her lips thinned, "I… not yet, Konan-chan."

"But why?" Even I could hear how indignant I was; she was teaching me hand signs, why not help me with the chakra control I'd been trying to develop on my own.

"I can't risk… If Hanzō's men found out…" she wet her lips and shook her head, "You need to stop practicing on your own too, Konan-chan –"

At this, I exploded. She'd been all for teaching me hand signs, probably so I'd work my way to be defending myself in the future. So this was so _unfair_!

"No, mother! I have to learn!" With that I threw my arms into the air and literally exploded.

Well, my arms did.

One second my arms had been whole, then they had burst apart into swirls of paper – leaving both my mother and myself stunned. I knew that I'd be able to do that eventually, but it was just so sudden. And felt so odd. Like my arms were still there, but my reach had extended somehow.

It wasn't until my heartbeat calmed that the paper fluttered back together to reform my arms, leaving mother paler than I thought possible.

Her hands gently gripped my shoulders –

"You can't, absolutely can't let anyone know you can do that. People… people won't be nice about it, dear. You'll be in serious danger."

I could only nod numbly, as I already knew that. If my memory served right it was around the time of this war that people began to seriously hate those with kekkei genkai. I'd known already that I'd have to be discreet until I'd found Yahiko and Nagato.

"I suppose," Mother choked out, "I should teach you some chakra control. So…so that doesn't happen again."

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

**Several months later**

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

It was time – time for one of the very things I'd been anticipating. Hanzō's men had ousted my mother and were demanding that she join the war efforts, much to her chagrin. And, admittedly, my own.

"But my daughter," despite her weakened state, mother was standing firm, "She can't feed and protect herself!"

One of the men sneered, his hand on his katana, "We don't _care_, you foolish woman. It's your _duty_ to fight for Lord Hanzō."

My heart sunk and the drizzle began to get heavier; I knew that look – the one that had just crossed my mother's face. Stubborn defiance, pure and simple. But she was too weak to beat them; too hungry. And what I saw was much worse than the mugging those years ago.

Partly because it was my mother, partly because it wasn't blurred by shadows or a cracked window.

The man with the katana lashed out before mother could even make one hand sign and blood gushed and spurted as she fell limply back to the ground, her body squelching as it hit the mud. My mouth dried and my eyes fuzzed over as I saw the brown, muddy water bleed a darker red-brown.

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't just stare, so –

I ran.

I ran and cried, everything that I'd pushed back spilled over and my tears mixed with the rain as I ran into the trees. I was barely five now, how could a five year old survive on her own?

"Ooof!"

The mud squelched as I hit the ground, a groan coming from the person I'd apparently plowed into. My eyes widened –

_Yahiko_.

"Oh, hey there," the orange haired boy gave me a smile.

_That was right_.

"Are you alright?" He questioned, his face slightly concerned. It turned to a panicked frown as my lower lip trembled, "O-oh, hey, it's all cool!"

_Yahiko would cart me along_.

My short blue hair smacked my face as I shook my head, "Mother is gone. So is dad. I – I'm alone."

"No. No you're not." Yahiko grabbed my hands and yanked me up, "You've got me now, and I've got you. Not alone. Never alone."

_Yahiko and I…we'd help each other_.

He grinned as I nodded, "So, what's my new friend's name? I'm Yahiko!"

"Konan."

_And later, I'd help Yahiko_.

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

…_**perhaps I can be the wind that changes something.**_

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

**Note: I'm just going to say Yahiko and Nagato will be around two years older than Konan in this, so Yahiko is seven right now, or maybe a few months away from being seven.**


	3. Chapter 3

**/././././.\\.\\.\\.\\.\**

**Kind of a time skip here: Konan is seven going on eight and Yahiko is almost ten.**

**Also, sorry for not updating in forever! D: College started up a couple of months ago and it's been killer.**

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

_**They say the wind can bring change…**_

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

There was a certain novelty to life with Yahiko. His seemingly boundless energy was enough for the both of us, as I was rather reluctant to get loud or do seemingly silly things like he was. More often than not he was the one that found us food – mostly by stealing – and he got caught more often than I liked. Like just yesterday where he got cuffed a good one, in fact, his cheek was still bruised now.

Not that any of that would stop him from doing it again though.

"It's really not that bad, Konan-chan!" Yahiko chuckled, ruffling my hair, "I can't even feel it anymore!"

"Then why were you poking at it and pouting this morning?" My voice came out much drier than I intended it to before turning sarcastic, "Did you finally realize how ugly you are?"

Yahiko clutched the front of his shirt in a dramatic fashion before throwing his head back, "Ah, so mean Konan-chan!"

It wasn't uncommon, me insulting him – jokingly, of course – and him being dramatic about it. In fact, it was a welcome occurrence and kept us balanced. The joking and teasing kept the atmosphere lighter than it actually was thanks to the perpetual gloom cloud looming over our nation. And in turn it made it easier for us to keep moving forward.

Our personalities worked together better than I thought they would – considering I'm pretty sure I'm less happy and darker than the child Konan _I_ remember was. I contributed that to being forced into this life in the first place, and to witnessing the murder of my mother. The latter also made me curious to how the original Konan's parents died, because surely she wouldn't have been as happy and nice as she was if she'd seen what I had.

"Hey, hey! What's with that gloomy look?" I jerked back as Yahiko's face appeared rather suddenly mere inches from my own, "You should smile instead! Like this!"

Yahiko then proceeded to point to his face where he stretched his grin out as far as possible, even going as far as to use his fingers to stretch it further.

I couldn't help it – I laughed, "You're so _stupid_, Yahiko!"

He followed in my laughter before grabbing my hand to tug me along, babbling about finding some shelter and trying to dry off. My shorter legs worked doubly hard to keep up with his longer ones and my hand tightened around his own – partly because he'd caused me to trip into the mud more than once, and partly because his hand was warm and comforting.

That was the thing about Yahiko that I liked the most. He just exuded that comforting aura – not to mention that there was just some undeniable and unidentifiable way about him that just made it seem like things were going to be okay. For a kid living in such a horrible place under such horrible conditions it was impressive, and I was extremely thankful.

Even with an adult mind, I wasn't suited to these conditions. I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't ended up as Konan, I still don't know what's going to happen – what I can change.

But as Konan, with Yahiko (and later Nagato), I could make _some_ kind of difference.

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

Our shelter was a little decrepit shack, full of holes – kind of like our lives, if I wanted to get sentimental about it. But it was enough to keep the water off of us as long as we stayed on one side where the roof was still whole. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

"Hey, Konan-chan," a crinkling sound followed Yahiko's voice, "They're kinda soggy, but I got us some rice crackers."

I scooted over to him, a threadbare, holey blanket around my shoulders – the only real source of warmth we had to our names at this point. And I vaguely wondered how they'd managed this in their pre-anime lives.

Had they (Yahiko and Konan) stayed in this teeny, broken-down shack too? Had they met around the same time, the same way we did?

"Here ya go!"

Two soggy rice crackers were placed in my hands, leaving – I noticed – only _one_ in Yahiko's. I bit my lip and felt tears well up in my eyes – how could this one boy, this one, orphaned boy be so kind and sweet? He was so selfless, even if it was only a rice cracker, it made a world of difference.

My throat felt thick with emotion as I shoved down one rice cracker, almost choking because I did just that; thus earning a thump on the back from Yahiko –

"Calm down Konan-chan."

He chortled.

"No need to choke it down."

It was a bad pun, a very bad pun. Regardless, Yahiko laughed at his own bad joke – or maybe he thought he was hilarious; I really wasn't sure whether it was that or if he was just trying to lighten the atmosphere. Yahiko was rather good at that, whether he was trying to do it or not.

He was still laughing as I worked on splitting my remaining rice cracker in half, the thing barely staying together as I did. My lips pulled into a thin line as I looked up at the vivid haired boy –

"Hold out your hand."

Yahiko blinked and tilted his head, his chuckling dying off the moment I'd spoken, "Huh? What for?"

"Just hold it out!"

He quirked a brow but obeyed and I dropped half of the soggy cracker into his waiting hand, earning me a startled look before he tried pushing it back into my own –

"Konan-chan, this is _yours_! I already –"

"No, it's yours." I glowered up at him, "We agreed to help each other and _share_; giving me two while you get one isn't fair. Now, e_at it before I __**make**__ you eat it_."

Yahiko's face contorted and he jerked his head in another direction before shoving the half of the cracker I gave him into his mouth. It took another moment for him to turn back around, and when he did he was using his finger to rub under his nose.

Had he gotten emotional over that? Like I'd gotten emotional earlier?

With a sniff and a narrowing of my eyes, I looked up at Yahiko –

"Were you _crying_?"

"W-What?" His face flushed slightly, "No! I wasn't!"

"Whatever, Yahiko."

"It's true!"

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

Despite how our bodies had to be somehow adjusted to live in this weather more so than a person born in another nation, it did _not_ make us immune to getting sick _because_ of it. At least, that's what I assume my current sniffling means. Which sucked, what with our thin and holey blanket and the prevalent rain, because getting warm was not an easy task.

Seven and a half years (roundabout, I think) for me to catch a common cold. And with this putrid weather it was likely to be a long ride.

"Konan-chan, I'm going to try and find another blanket for you," Yahiko made his way to the door before turning to face me, "Okay?"

By 'find' I could only assume he meant 'find and steal', which was how we got just about everything we have.

"Al –Al.." My nose twitched and began to itch before my body let loose a sneeze, and said sneeze had my hands and face explode into paper before reforming.

"What was that?!" Yahiko lurched forward, his hand on my shoulders and his eyes wide, "You didn't tell me you had a kekkei genkai, Konan-chan!

"That's so cool!" I sniffled as he shoved his face even closer to my own, "How does it work?"

"I dunno. I don't even really know," another sneeze escaped me and I felt \my skin ripple, "how to control it."

Yahinko's face lost some of its excitement at my sneeze and he faltered before jumping up and scrambling to the door –

"We can figure that out later. You need a blanket and we both need some food."

With that his vibrant orange hair disappeared out into the murk, leaving me sniffling under the rag we referred to as a blanket. My skin rippled again with a sneeze and I shivered at the feeling – it was unnatural, like a weird peeling sensation across my body; though I suppose if I actually knew how to use it I would get used to it.

That, I suppose, is where Jiraya might come in. Then again he probably didn't have any experience with a kekkei genkai like mine and, if I remember it correctly, the only thing Konan did with paper in the flashbacks was make shuriken out of them.

And flowers.

Flowers seemed a little cliché this time around though, so –

"Huh?" I shirked back into my raggedy blanket at the thumping sounds from outside, "Yahiko can't be back yet…"

A shadow moved around in the door, blurred slightly by the rain and murky light. Splinters dug through the blanket and my clothes as I pressed back against the wall – this was not good. This could be anyone, literally anyone. But if a rain ninja had found our little hideout there was no telling what could happen.

We could end up dead or forced back to become ninja for Hanzō. It was –

_Nagato_.

His hair was a deep red, darkened by the dampness, his skin was pale, and his eyes had the rings that signified the Rinnegan. He was exactly how I remembered the child Nagato from the show, except a little thinner.

My orange-amber eyes met is ringed grey ones, both sets wide (because Kami knows I could feel mine stretched wide). And we stayed like this, staring at each other, until another sneeze hit me and knocked my head into my knees.

"A-ah… Are you… Are you okay?"

I sniffled and looked back up at his semi-concerned face before smiling sheepishly, "Yeah, just… just a little sick."

He shuffled a bit and looked back, like he was contemplating leaving and finding somewhere else to stay. But I couldn't just let him do that. Not just because him joining us was part of the story, but because he was _alone_. Alone and in need of friends – friends that Yahiko and I could be. And perhaps it was some of the older parts of my mind that found the need to take him in.

"You can stay here, if you want."

Nagato's head jerked up and his eyes widened, "N-no, that's okay! I don't want to intrude."

My lips pursed, "Stay. Yahiko 'll be back later and he'd tell you to stay too."

He hesitated again before moving further in to get away from the rain, and from where I sat I could see a glimmer of relief and happiness of his face. The corners of my own mouth curled up slightly –

"Good. Now, I'm Konan; what's your name?"

"…Nagato."

"It's nice –" a sneeze cut me off and caused another rippling sensation, " – to meet you, Nagato."

**/-*-*-*-*-\**

…_**perhaps I can be the wind that changes something.**_

**/-*-*-*-*-\**


End file.
